There is No Perfect Solution
by softballgirl05
Summary: "I have my own way to cope. But even the best of plans can come crashing down. The world is thrown out of balance as soon as you see someone you know on the ground, enclosed in the cage of yellow crime scene tape." How Greg Sanders does what he does. R
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello! I'm new to the CSI section of Fanfiction so be nice please. I mostly write for Percy Jackson but I've become so obsessed with CSI lately that I had to write something to show my undying devotion for this show. Please review and tell me what you think about it. I'm thinking it'll go in a romantic direction but if that's not what the people want... you can decide. That's all for now! *Peace, love, and Greg***

**Disclaimer: Does anyone else realize how stupid disclaimers are? I have yet to find one person that actually owns what they're writing about. Ah well, anyway, no I don't own CSI.**

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This job requires a tough skin. There's no easy way to tell somebody that their husband, their wife, their child, their friend has died. But after awhile it gets better.

I no longer have to go home and stare at the black television screen, wondering what gruesome sights will await me in a few hours. I don't go home anymore and drink until I don't feel anything. Now I have a system. I have a way to cope.

I don't want to end up like Grissom, staring at his jars of bugs. I don't want to end up like Nick, who has memorized every show the Discovery Channel has ever aired. I don't want to end up like Sara, working to keep the pain away.

No, I have my own very delicate way to cope. I, Greg Sanders, have invented the perfect solution to the nights when you can't sleep because the images of the little boy whose mother beat him to death keep cropping up in your mind no matter how hard you try to block it out. It involves people, not bugs or T.V. or file folders of old cases. But even the best of plans can come crashing down. The world is thrown out of balance as soon as you see someone you know on the ground, enclosed in the cage of yellow crime scene tape. Especially when it's someone you love.


	2. When Your Luck Runs Out

**A/N: Hey everyone! I don't know if you are actually reading this story or not but it's so fun to write that I'm going to be stubborn and keep publishing whether you review or not! Haha, but really, I would like it if you reviewed. Not much to say except that there's 2 chapters today and I have the third written so it will be posted shortly. My thanks to those who did review: Greg'sgirl5 and The Walking Chill Pill. I love you:) That's all for now! *Leggo my Greggo* (I was watching videos about Greg's funny moments on YouTube and this came up. Classic!)**

**Disclaimer: Let me check again... no I'm sorry but I still don't own CSI. When I do, you'll be the first to know.**

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_*Note: Takes place approximatly six months before the prologue (first chapter)*_

"Man why can't all our cases involve questioning and comforting distraught models?" Greg Sanders asked his colleague.

"It wasn't that great." Nick Stokes said with a frown.

"You're just mad because you lost the coin toss and had to take the men's wear section." Greg replied with a smirk. "I got the amazingly hot girls; you got the guys wearing berets."

"Well I guess it's just your lucky day Greg." Nick told his younger partner. "Did you get any numbers?"

"I..." Greg broke off at the appearance of his supervisor Gil Grissom.

"Greg, you and Sara have a 419. She's already in the SUV so hurry up." The no-nonsense man informed him.

"Gris, we got evidence from the modeling convention to process." Nick told Grissom.

Grissom raised his eyebrow at the question of his authority. "I understand but I have to meet Catherine and Warrick; they have a triple that could be connected to the dead guy we found on the strip last night. Nick, you're going to have to process by yourself. We're tapped out."

Nick shrugged. "Alright. I can manage on my own I guess. Good luck Greggo."

Greg reached into his locker to put on his vest once again and left the locker room to find Sara.


	3. Once a DNA Tech Always a DNA Tech

**A/N: Thanks for sticking through all the way to chapter 3! I already posted my comments that nobody reads anyway, so I'll let you get right to it.**

**Disclaimer: As mentioned before, I do not, nor will I ever, own CSI.**

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The bright neon lights of the clubs and bars surrounding the crime scene illuminated the faces of the two CSI's striding up to Sophia Curtis. The face of the tall, attractive detective was somber and she sighed as Greg and Sara approached.

"We have a boy, maybe six to seven years old. There was no ID on him, in fact there was nothing in his pockets at all." Sophia looked at the two of them. "Dave's checking him now."

The trio headed over to the bench next to a bus stop where the young victim lay.

Sara shook her head. "Wow, he's really young. Too young to be murdered."

"So there's an age that it's appropriate to be murdered at?" Greg questioned Sara.

The female CSI shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Got anything for us Dave?" She changed the subject.

"COD was blunt force trauma. Man, this kid really suffered. He's got four possibly five blows to the head, several broken ribs, sprained ankle. Just look at his face." The assistant coroner had a look of disgust on his face. "What kind of person does this to a kid and then dumps him on a bench?"

"The kind we need to throw in jail." Sophia replied, David's disgusted look mirrored on her face.

Sara pulled out her camera and began to photograph the body.

"The girl who found him said he was lying face down originally and that she turned him over." Sophia informed them. "You guys will have to talk to her; she's got blood on her."

"I'll take care of it." Greg said. "Where is she?"

"Over there." Sophia pointed to a woman behind the tape.

Greg nodded and headed to sidewalk where the woman was standing.

"Excuse me miss? My name is Greg Sanders, I'm with the Las Vegas crime lab. I'm a CSI."

The girl was pretty, with long blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail and bangs that fell into her eyes. "I'm Tori DeGara. I would offer to shake your hand but..." she held up her hands which were covered in sticky red blood. "Listen, I'm really sorry I moved the body, I know that makes things harder for you guys. I thought the kid was alive." A pained expression crossed the woman's face at her last comment. "I was worried. I saw a kid lying on the bench all alone. I was going to help him, call his mom or dad, I figured he must be lost. It's not even safe for me to be in this area by myself, let alone a little boy. When he didn't talk to me I tried to wake him up." Tear tracks were now visible on her face. "I rolled him over and he wasn't breathing." She took a shaky breath.

"I know it's no consolation really, but you did the right thing." Greg tried to comfort her.

Tori nodded. "Make sure you get fingernail scrapings, it looks like there's DNA under them. Don't worry; I didn't touch them.

Greg shook the surprised expression off his face. "How did you know..."

"About the DNA under the nails? I have a degree in forensic science. I studied to be a DNA tech."

The CSI smiled. "I used to be a DNA tech until I started in the field."

Tori studied his face. "What made you change?" she asked him, curious about his response.

"I don't know," Greg paused. "I guess I wanted to see the faces that go with the swabs."

Tori swallowed, looking back to the bench where David was now sticking his thermometer into the child's liver. "Some faces you don't really want to see."

Greg nodded in agreement. "Sorry, I'm going to need to take your shirt. It's got blood on it so it's evidence."

Tori unbuttoned the blouse she was wearing to reveal another shirt underneath it. Greg raised an eyebrow.

"I work two jobs, one right after the other. In fact," she grabbed Greg's wrist to check his watch. "I'm now an hour and a half late for work."

"Did you already give your statement to Detective Curtis?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Then you can probably leave. Here, if you would write your contact information on this paper in case we have any other questions," Greg said pushing a piece of paper towards her. "That would be really helpful."

The woman nodded and did as Greg told her.

"You know," she told him before he turned to walk away "I would like it if you called me so we could have coffee together or something."

Greg was about to reply that he would love to have coffee with her when he hesitated. "I would like to but it's a police investigation and that's probably not a good idea."

Tori DeGara shrugged. "So call me after you finish your investigation." She smiled at him and walked away down the street.


End file.
